


Surveillance

by Titch360



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-03-30 08:11:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13947405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Titch360/pseuds/Titch360
Summary: There is always someone watching, but that doesn't mean there is always someone looking out for you.





	1. Chapter 1

Surveillance

 

“AGAIN!”

Damian grimaced for just a second as he wiped sweat from his brow.  His muscles were burning, he was short of breath, and he just wanted a short break.

However, breaks are for the weak, and Damian is anything but weak.

Taking a deep breath, Damian straightened his back and lifted his sword to ready position.

“Reset,” Talia called out, and two servants ran forward with another practice dummy.  “Get it right this time, my child.”

_I got it right last time,_ the nine year old thought to himself, _and every time before that, for the past thirteen hours._

“Go,” Talia barked.

Giving four sure strikes, Damian removed the practice dummy’s head, arms, and one leg.  The dummy balanced precariously for a moment before crumbling to the floor in pieces, like the previous one hundred eighty-six forms had.

Damian turned, wiping at the sweat that was pouring down his bare chest with a towel.  “Did I get it right this time, Mother?”

Talia rolled her eyes and exhaled harshly, “No.  Again, no!  It’s very simple: four strikes, five body parts, in under three seconds.  You missed an entire leg.  Do it again!  We’ll be here all night, if we have to.”

Damian turned to find another practice dummy set up in front of him.

“Go,” Talia called out again.

Damian moved again, this time removing both legs.  He allowed himself a small smile, until he heard the whistle of Talia’s kendo sword, her current favored punishment device.  The heavy wooden stick struck his bare shoulder with a wet crack, leaving a welt that would be visible for the next week.  It hurt, but the boy dare not cry out, or the next stroke would be far more painful, and possibly debilitating.

“You are dropping your shoulder again, and you are still a second over on time.  You don’t eat, you don’t sleep, you don’t rest until you get this right.”

Damian pushed out a hard breath as he turned to face yet another dummy.  Damian swung his sword four more times, but even as he completed his last strike, he knew he still wasn’t fast enough.  Talia didn’t say anything about his five-second performance, she instead let her kendo sword do the talking, striking across the boy’s back.  This time, Damian let out a light hiss of pain.  The pain changed from a sharp pain to a dull burn, letting Damian know that this wound had left a cut behind, which was now seeping blood.

“Why are you making this difficult on yourself, Damian?  I’m not asking anything of you that you aren’t capable of.”

Damian turned to face his mother, “Mother, dismantling a dummy and killing a target are two different things.”

Talia snarled at her son, “You dare talk back to me?”

Damian bowed his head, an automatic reflex beaten into the boy over the years, “I meant no disrespect, Mother.  I’m just pointing out a fact.”

Talia was about to lash out at her son again when she thought about what he had said.  Wondering what might happen, Talia said, “Prove your point.”

Damian turned around again and found another practice dummy waiting, ready for dismembering.  Damian lifted his sword and gave the latest incarnation of the skill set.

“Time,” Damian asked.

“Three point eight seconds,” Talia said, looking at her stopwatch, “Still too slow.”

As the servants were running out another practice dummy, Damian pointed at one of them and called out, “You.  What’s your name?”

The woman took a step forward and bowed, “Fatima, Lord Damian.”

Four quick strikes, one quickly silenced scream, and five sprays of blood later, Damian turned again to face Talia.  “Time?”

Talia took a second look at her stopwatch, “Two point seven seconds.”

Damian gave a smile, the servant’s blood dripping down his face, and staining his white pants red, “Point proved.”

Talia sighed, “Very well.”  She pointed at the remaining servant, who was trying not to cower in fear, “You, clean him up, feed him, and put him to bed, or you will end up like your counterpart.  Then, clean up this room.”

_The Next Day…_

Talia walked into Damian’s bedroom the following morning just before sunrise.  She walked over to the bed and snapped, “Get up!”

From across the room came Damian’s reply, “I’m up, Mother.”

Talia turned to find Damian standing near the wall on his hands, doing inverted push-ups.  Talia considered him for a minute, watching as Damian pumped out another dozen repetitions, before her look softened just a bit.

“Get dressed.  Today will be a bit different for you.  You will be attending to your Grandfather in his meetings today.”

Damian righted himself as Talia started going through Damian’s wardrobe, to pull out appropriate clothes for the meeting.  “What kind of meetings, Mother?”

Talia replied, “The first meeting is with the representatives of one of our Afghan oil pipelines.  They have been shorting our protection payments lately.  Father is going to put them back on track.”

Damian stripped out of his pajamas and asked, “Which Afghan oil pipeline, Mother?  We work with two that I’m aware of.”

Talia turned around, and the clothes she was holding answered the question for him.  Damian sighed and shook his head, “Oh.  The perverts.”

Talia was holding a pair of flowing white silk pants, which were designed to sit very low around his waist, and an open vest made of black silk, with dark green trim around the openings.  The fact that Talia had not pulled out a shirt to wear under the vest, nor any type of undergarments, told Damian his role in the upcoming meeting.

Talia laid it out for him anyway as he got dressed, “This pipeline owes us a large sum of money.  For the aggravation of even having to hold this meeting, your Grandfather will demand an increase in the amount they pay for our protection every month.  I’m guessing he will demand at least a twenty percent increase.  Your Grandfather believes this meeting will go much smoother if they have something nice to look at.”

Not paying attention to the compliment, Damian sighed as Talia secured a gold bracer around each of the boy’s wrists.  “So, I am just there as something for them to fondle while Grandfather convinces them to honor our existing agreement.”

Talia began to style Damian’s hair as Damian ensured that the standard daggers were hidden in each bracer.  “I’ve been assured that you will be allowed to kill one of them if they do not accept our terms.”

That put a smile on Damian’s face as Talia rubbed oil on Damian’s chest and arms, giving his skin a glistening look.  Standing back, Talia said, “Your Grandfather awaits you in the audience hall.  The envoy has already arrived, and the meeting starts in ten minutes.”

Damian ran all the way to the audience hall, his bare feet slapping on the stone floor, to purposely give his cheeks a flushed look.  He was not acknowledged as he approached behind Ra’s, but he knew that his presence was not a secret.

A door opened on the other side of the room, and the two men from the oil company were led to the table in the center of the room.  Ra’s stood to welcome his visitors, and Damian had no trouble spotting the predatory leer on both men’s faces as they saw the young boy standing in Ra’s Al-Ghul’s shadow.

“Abdul, Usman, welcome.  Please, have a seat.”

The three men sat, but Damian purposely remained standing, and took a step closer to the table, to remain visible to the oilmen.

Ra’s continued, “I’m sure you know why I’ve asked for this meeting.  We have a contract, and you are not holding up your end.”

Usman responded, “Yes, we wanted to speak to you about this, as well.  You see, we are paying you in excess of thirty percent of our annual profit, and frankly, we aren’t seeing much of a return on our investment.  We have altered our monthly payments to a level more in line with what we believe your services are worth.”

Abdul leaned forward, his attention fully on Damian.

Ra’s spoke harshly, “We have a contract.  Altering it does not come without repercussions.  You will adhere to our deal, or the consequences will be severe.”

Abdul beckoned Damian forward, “Boy, come here.  Pour my coffee.”

Damian looked up at Ra’s, who nodded.  Damian walked around the table at a deliberate pace, adding a slight sway to his hips as he walked.  He had completely captured the attention of both men as he turned to pick up the coffee press from the table.  Damian bent over slightly, pushing his rear end towards Abdul as he poured the drink.

It wasn’t a shock to Damian when Abdul’s hand found its way onto his butt, but he was a bit surprised that the man had so brazenly stuck his hand down the back of Damian’s pants in the middle of a business meeting.

Damian shot Ra’s a world weary glance.  Ra’s responded with the tiniest of smirks.

Damian turned, the man’s hand staying in place, “Your drink, sir.”

Abdul took the cup in one hand and took a long drink while squeezing one of Damian’s cheeks.  He set the cup down before running a finger softly down Damian’s oiled chest as he gave a leering smile to the boy.  He spoke softly to the boy as he said, “Perfect.”

Abdul turned back to Ra’s and said, “We have paid you all we are going to pay you, and there really is nothing you can do to change our minds.  You work for us on this deal, not the other way around.”

Ra’s eyes narrowed in anger, but his attention was caught by the way Damian’s posture straightened a bit, and the way his eyes widened.  Ra’s had a suspicion of what had just happened in the boy’s pants.

“Is that your final word on the subject?”

“That is our only word on the subject,” Abdul said darkly.

“Very well,” Ra’s said with a sigh as he steepled his fingers in front of his face.  His tone sharpened as he said, “Abdul, that is not some slave boy you are fingering.  That is my grandson you are disrespecting, and since your only word on the subject at hand is no, my grandson will give you our response.  Damian, you may indulge yourself.”

Damian grew a feral smile as he slammed his right wrist bracer into Abdul’s face.  The man was stunned and bleeding, but Damian wasn’t done yet.  He pulled one of his hidden daggers and jabbed it through Abdul’s right eye and into his brain.  Damian twisted the dagger before pulling it out.  He didn’t notice that Abdul’s eye came with it, and was still skewered on the blade as he slashed it across Abdul’s throat.  Damian shoved the dead man’s chair over backwards.  The dead man’s hand slid out of Damian’s pants, dragging the loose material down as he fell.  Damian yanked them back up before turning to stare at Ra’s.

Usman was frozen in shock and fear as he stared at the blood-splattered youth.  Damian was panting with barely restrained blood lust as Ra’s asked, “Did he enter you, Grandson?”

“Yes,” Damian growled.

Ra’s sighed, “Bring me the finger.”

Damian reached down and yanked on the offending digit before slicing it from the dead hand.  He walked over and deposited it in Ra’s outstretched hand.

Turning to his remaining guest, Ra’s said, “Usman?  Usman!”  The man turned a shocked stare to Ra’s, “Tell your overseers that our regular payments will continue immediately.  For having to call this meeting, and for the offense inflicted on my grandson, you will increase our payment amount by forty percent.  We will never call a meeting like this one again.  If you choose to alter our arrangement again, I will send my Grandson to execute you, and all of your overseers, and we will take control of the pipeline ourselves.”

Ra’s tossed the severed finger to the still-shocked man, “Take that to your overseers as a reminder not to cross the League of Assassins.  You have ten days to deliver our next payment.  Now, go.”

Usman shot out of his chair like it had been electrified and scurried for the door.

Ra’s turned back to Damian, “You did well, Grandson.  Go get yourself cleaned up and put on something more appropriate.  You will be summoned for our next meeting; it’s not until this afternoon.”

Ra’s squeezed the child’s shoulder fondly as Damian passed by, leaving at a much more dignified pace than Usman had.

Damian stalked into his room, still fuming from what had just happened, and was surprised to find Talia waiting in his room.  The woman stood, taking in the blood stains on Damian’s chest and pants.

“I assume the meeting didn’t go quite how Father hoped it would.”

“It did not,” Damian said sharply, pacing back and forth across the room.

“Did you kill one, or both,” Talia asked.

“One,” Damian replied, “Mother, why do we deal with pedophiles?”

Talia sighed, “They came to us for protection; we didn’t seek them out.  They are very well-funded, and were willing to pay.  What happened?”

Damian stopped pacing and looked at Talia, “Your choice of outfit for this meeting was quite enticing for our guests.  He had the audacity to touch me while telling Grandfather they wouldn’t pay.”

“You’ve been touched in these meetings before, Damian,” Talia said, “That was half of your purpose there today.”

“He stuck a finger in my ass, Mother,” Damian snapped, nearly shouting, “His finger was _inside_ me!”

Talia stared, “Your Grandfather allowed you to kill him, right?”

Damian took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, “Of course.”

They were silent for a minute, before Damian said, “Grandfather said for me to get cleaned up and changed for the next meeting.  I will be summoned when it is time.”

Talia surprised Damian with a soft smile, and helped him out of his stained vest.  Damian looked up strangely as Talia led him to the bathroom and began to draw him a bath.

“Mother?  Usually you order a servant to do this.”

Talia began to scrub her son, “You’ve earned my attention today.  You may rest until this afternoon’s meeting.  Your Grandfather will need you alert and at your best for that one.”

Damian was indeed allowed to rest until the next meeting.  He was even able to sneak a nap in after breakfast.  When the time came, Damian was far happier with his next selected outfit.  Talia pulled out an all-black outfit, which Damian normally wore on infiltration missions.  He was even happier when Talia pulled out his gun belt and his favorite sword.

Smirking evilly, Damian asked, “What kind of meeting is this, Mother?”

Talia looked down seriously, “Probably the most important meeting you’ve ever been invited to attend.  Your Grandfather is meeting an envoy from the League of Shadows.”

Damian gasped, “Why would he do that?  Are they finally going to surrender?”

Talia snorted, “I wouldn’t count on it.  Father meets with their envoy every few years.  The war will never end; he just uses this meeting to judge the enemy, and probe for weaknesses.  You can expect an increase in anti-Shadow aggression over the next few weeks.”

Damian was loading his pistol as he asked, “What role am I to play in this meeting, Mother?”

Talia gave a real smile as she regarded her young son, “The role you were born to play.  You are the Demon’s Fist, and your one role is to protect your Grandfather.”

Damian nodded seriously, “Very well, Mother.”

Talia continued, “The meeting is supposed to be just Father and their envoy, but Father will play off your presence in the audience chamber as training his future replacement.  There will also be two guards at the door.  Follow your Grandfather’s orders.”

Damian nodded again, “Yes, Mother.”

Damian walked into the audience hall, and took in the changes from this morning.  The meeting table and chairs were gone; so was the dead body and the blood stains.  Two guards were stationed by the far door, impassively watching the room.

_They almost blend into the wall.  Good, there will be less chance of them being spotted that way._   Damian purposely walked over to the far door, just to see the guard’s reactions.  As expected, they didn’t make a move, and wouldn’t until ordered.  _Well trained, totally loyal…but not as good as me._

“Grandson, you are early.”

Ra’s voice boomed out from across the room.  Damian turned, and he and the guards all bowed in unison.

Damian rose and approached the ancient man, “Just being cautious, Grandfather.  Mother sent me early.”

Ra’s gave the smallest of smirks, “Did she prepare you for this meeting?”

“She told me what to expect,” Damian said, nodding, “Should I be watching for anything in particular?”

Ra’s sat in a throne, set against the wall on a three-step riser, “Follow my orders and observe.  You are free to eliminate any threats that may present themselves, but their envoy you must not harm.  If anything happens, he is mine.”

Damian looked up at the seated man from his position at ground level, “Do you anticipate any problems, Grandfather?”

Ra’s looked down at his grandson, “You should always expect problems when dealing with the League of Shadows.”

The door on the other side of the room opened, and a man walked into the space boldly.  Ra’s rose, “Come, Grandson.  Observe, and be my fist.”

The approaching man stood just as tall as Ra’s.  He had raven hair and steely eyes in an angular, hardened face.  He stopped several feet away from the ancient man and the young boy, and met Ra’s gaze without flinching.

Several minutes passed before Ra’s made the first sound to be uttered since the arrival of his hated enemy.  “I welcome you in the name of temporary peace, Ko-Lan.  The years have been kind to you; kinder than you deserve, I’m sure.”

If the man derived any enjoyment from the remark, it didn’t show on his impassive face, “I cannot say the same of you, Ra’s Al-Ghul.  It has only been five years, but you appear to have aged at least twenty years.  What is the meaning of this?  Our long-standing agreement is very specific; one envoy from each faction may be present at these meetings, and all guards are to be left outside of the meeting hall.”

Ra’s turned his head only slightly in the direction of Damian, “As you have said, the years are starting to catch up with me.  This is my Grandson.  I am training him in the ancient ways, to eventually take my place.”

Ko-Lan let the first indication of emotion show on his face as he glanced quickly at the youth, who was dressed for combat and was wearing a sword that was almost bigger than he was on his back.  “I see.  You have no intention of capitulating, then, and taking your rightful place of subservience to the League of Shadows?”

“No more so than you plan to serve the League of Assassins.”

Ko-Lan gave a curt nod, “Then why do you insist on calling these pointless meetings?”

Ra’s eyes narrowed, “Because, there was a time, a hundred years before you were born, when your Shadows were an honorable enemy.  It was your side that asked for the first meeting, to discuss allowing non-combatants to live their lives without fear of a war they knew nothing about.  The Shadows were on the brink of defeat, and I graciously allowed your fighters to flee the field of battle, with their tails firmly between their legs.”

Ko-Lan gave an evil smile, “That was your mistake, then.  The League of Shadows is stronger than ever, and we will never yield to the likes of you, Al-Ghul.”

Damian was watching the back and forth interplay with interest.  It wasn’t every day that he got to see the thought process of an enemy.  He had been trained with the purpose of continuing the ongoing conflict with the Shadows.  Knowing that they had once been so close to defeat that they had begged for mercy gave Damian the hope that he could live up to his Grandfather’s legacy, and possibly win the war in his lifetime.

Ra’s met the evil smile with one of his own, “It was no mistake.  The Shadows have remained but a minor irritant throughout the years since then.  If I were concerned about your existence, you would no longer exist.  Remember, the League of Assassins is all-reaching.  There is nowhere you can hide from me, once I decide you are no longer worthy of my time.”

Damian liked the sound of that, but another sound caught his ear.  It was faint, but it was there.  Trying to remain inconspicuous, Damian tried to look around the room without moving his head.

“Our existence should be foremost on your mind,”Ko-Lan said, “because our sole reason for living is to ensure your demise.  It will come a lot sooner than you think, Al-Ghul.”

Ra’s regarded the man for a second before saying, “Ko-Lan, if you were capable of something like that, you would have done it years ago.”

Ko-Lan nodded, “We’re capable.  Believe me, we’re capable.”

Damian cocked his head as he heard the mysterious sound again.  He glanced up, and his eyes widened in shock.  Damian smoothly drew his customized Glock 19, pointed it up at the ceiling, and fired three quick shots before taking aim at the envoy of the Shadows.

“It’s a trap, Grandfather!”

Ko-Lan looked incensed, “What is the meaning of this?”

Ko-Lan was barely able to get the words out before three Shadow warriors, who had been clinging to the ceiling and moving into ambushing position, fell to the floor, dead.

“I should ask you the same thing,” Ra’s demanded.

Ignoring the ancient man, Ko-Lan turned to the boy and asked, “Just who do you think you are?”

“The Demon’s Fist,” Damian said proudly.

Ko-Lan’s eyes widened in surprise.  _Surely not…_   “ _You_ are the Demon’s Fist?  We had heard rumors, but never… A boy?  A child is your great protector?”

Ra’s regarded the shocked man, “Would you have ever thought him a danger when you first walked into this room?”

Damian wasn’t sure he liked how that last comment was phrased, but knowing that his grandfather could create a clone of him at any time to replace him, he kept his mouth shut.

Ko-Lan took a deep breath, “Then, you have made my job here that much easier.”

Before either Al-Ghul could ask the meaning of the envoy’s statement, an explosion and the sounds of battle sounded from down the hall.  Ra’s drew his sword, thus ending the civil part of the meeting.  Ko-Lan drew his own weapon, one that caused Ra’s to pause.

As the battle sounds grew closer, Ra’s called out, “Grandson, the door.”

Damian turned and pointed to the two guards, “You two, get out there and face this threat.  Protect my Grandfather.”

The two door guards nodded and silently left the audience hall.  Damian took aim at the still-open door, preparing himself for his intended purpose, to be the last line of defense between any threat and his Grandfather.

He listened in to Ko-Lan’s and Ra’s stand-off.  “You have made a mistake in coming here today, Ko-Lan.”

“It was no mistake,” Ko-Lan said, shaking his head.

“You’re too soft to use that,” Ra’s challenged.

Ko-Lan looked down at himself.  Opening his jacket, he revealed the suicide vest he was wearing with his left hand, while showing Ra’s the detonator switch held in his right hand.

“You’re wrong.  I was chosen for this great honor.  In one blow, I will end the threat of the League of Assassins and secure the future of the League of Shadows.  We have been planning this for years.  Our plan is coming together, and even if I fail to end the Al-Ghul menace, the one hundred Shadow warriors that are now assaulting your complex won’t fail.”

The rising battle sounds coming from the hallway told Damian that the two guards he ordered out were not enough to stop the rush of enemy combatants.  Listening carefully, Damian took aim at the empty doorway and waited.

He didn’t have to wait long.  The sounds of thundering footsteps raced closer down the hall.  The first Shadow warrior appeared in the doorway for just a second, but that was all Damian needed to act.  He snapped off a quick shot, dropping the assailant.

Damian took a step closer to the door and fired again as another warrior ran into the room.  _Mindless drones.  These idiots are just running to their deaths.  They’ll never get past me._

Another Shadow Warrior.  Another shot.  Another dead body.

Damian fired nine more times, killing a potential assailant with each shot.  Reloading his weapon, Damian ran to the door and looked down the hallway.  He didn’t like what he saw.  A veritable mob of Shadow Warriors were working their way down the corridor.

Damian waited until they were a little closer before taking aim and quickly emptying his magazine.  Fifteen more enemies fell, and the Warriors sought whatever cover they could find from the assault.

Thundering footfalls came from the opposite direction.  Damian reloaded again and swung his pistol in the opposite direction.  He quickly averted his aim as he saw a dozen Assassins charging towards the enemy.

Damian pointed at the enemy and shouted out, “Do your job, defend my Grandfather!”

The Assassins barely acknowledged Damian as they passed by, intent on their sworn enemy.  Damian turned back to the Audience hall and began closing the door to provide an extra layer of protection for Ra’s Al-Ghul.

Meanwhile, Ra’s was staring down his opponent.  Ko-Lan sneered at Ra’s and said, “This will be a day long remembered.  Not by you, of course.”

“Neither by you, it would seem,” Ra’s shot back.

“On the contrary.  I’ll remember this for the rest of my life.”

Ra’s saw the small muscles contracting in Ko-Lan’s thumb, and acted first.  Ra’s made a quick chop with his sword, and severed his attacker’s hand at mid-forearm.  To his credit, Ko-Lan didn’t scream in pain, the way Ra’s thought he might.  The man merely stared at the stump of his right arm for a second.

It was the last second of his life.

What Ra’s didn’t take into account was that the suicide vest strapped to his opponent was equipped with a deadman switch.  In cutting off Ko-Lan’s hand, he also cut the wires connecting the detonator to the bomb.  The bomb read that as a signal to detonate.

Ko-Lan was vaporized in the blast.  Later, the only parts of him that would be found were his feet and his severed arm, still gripping the detonator.   

Ra’s was not so lucky.  The force of the blast propelled him backwards twelve feet, to land awkwardly, mostly on his neck and left shoulder.

Damian had just finished closing the large door to the audience hall, and had set the heavy wooden crossbar in place, to prevent access from the outside of the room.  He had just taken a step away from the door when the shockwave forced the lightweight youth into the ancient hardwood portal.  Damian’s forehead connected solidly with the door, cracking the wood as he slumped to the floor, unconscious.

_Later…_

“Damian.  Damian!  Wake up!”

The child regained consciousness with a shock as Talia slapped him awake.  The boy’s head was pounding, and he was confused about where he was.

Damian blinked several times, until his mother’s face came into focus, leaning over him.

“Mother,” Damian asked softly.

Talia grabbed the front of Damian’s shirt and hauled him up to his feet.  She shook the youth roughly as she leaned closer to his face menacingly.  “What happened?  How could you possibly fail your mission this poorly?”

Damian looked around the room to find a blast-charred wreck that looked nothing like the clean environment he remembered.  “What do you mean, Mother?”

“You are the Demon’s Fist.  It is your job to defend your Grandfather.”

Damian was still confused, “I did my job.  I followed his orders.  I don’t know what happened.”

Talia growled, “What happened is that you allowed the Shadow’s envoy to bring a bomb into this meeting room, then allowed him to detonate it.”

Damian’s eyes widened, “Is that what happened?  Where’s Grandfather?”

“You Grandfather has been killed, Damian,” Talia reported harshly, “You weren’t able to protect him.”

“No,” Damian gasped.  “He’s…dead?”

Talia dropped her son and took a step back, “Ra’s has been taken to the Lazarus Pit.  He will survive this attempt on his life.  Tell me why you should.”

Damian’s head fell, “I did what I could.  I followed Grandfather’s orders.  I wasn’t good enough.  I apologize, Mother.”

Talia stepped forward and slapped Damian hard across the face.  His head snapped to the side as Talia growled again, “What happened?”

Damian took a deep breath, “Grandfather and Ko-Lan were debating which side would win in our struggle, when I heard intruders.  There were three Shadow warriors climbing across the ceiling, getting ready to ambush us.  I killed them.”

“Why didn’t you kill Ko-Lan?”

“Grandfather told me not to,” Damian replied, “He said that, if anything happened, I was to leave Ko-Lan to him.”

Talia thought for a second, “That sounds like something my Father would say.  Continue.”

Damian nodded, “We could hear the Shadows approaching the audience hall.  Grandfather ordered me to cover the door, to keep them from entering.  I ordered the guards out, to face our attackers.  I killed as many of the Shadows as I could.”

“How many,” Talia asked.

Damian thought for a second, “I used two full magazines before I got the door closed and secured, and I didn’t miss, so I killed thirty.”

A small smile crossed Talia’s face, there and gone in an instant, “Good.  At least you did that right.  Then what happened?”

Damian shook his head, wishing he hadn’t as the room started spinning with the movement and his concussion, “I don’t know.  I had just secured the door when I guess I heard the explosion.  The next thing I remember is you waking me up.”

Talia sighed, “That sounds about right.  From what I’ve seen in here, your story sounds plausible.”

“Ko-Lan said he brought one hundred soldiers,” Damian ventured, “What happened to the rest of them?”

Talia regarded her son, “What do you think happened to them?  Their little attempt at an overthrow of the proper order has failed.  There were several other bombs placed around the palace, but this was the only one that resulted in casualties.”

Damian nodded.  He was silent for half a minute before he asked, “Can I see Grandfather?”

Talia shook her head, “He is still recovering from the Lazarus Pit Psychosis.  It will be quite some time before he is able to see anyone without killing them.  Perhaps I should let you see him.  It could serve as ample punishment for allowing your Grandfather to be killed in the first place.”

Damian hung his head again, “I followed his orders, Mother.  What else was I supposed to do?”

Talia sighed, “I apologize, my child.  This has not been a good day for us.  At least the Shadows didn’t accomplish their main goal.”

That caught Damian’s attention; not only the information that Talia just relayed, but the change in her attitude.  “What do you mean, Mother?”

Talia and Damian left the audience hall and walked down the corridor towards their rooms, “I was able to capture one of the Shadow Warriors.  I tortured him for information about their attack.  Before he died, he told me that Father wasn’t the intended target of this raid.”

“He wasn’t,” Damian asked, confused.

“No, my child, he wasn’t.  The target of the raid was the Demon’s Fist.”

Damian came to a sudden stop, “Me?  They were targeting me?”

Talia nodded as they entered Damian’s bedroom.  The boy stopped, and his jaw fell in shock.  There was a gaping hole in the wall, where another bomb had been planted, and the room was in a shambles.  “They blew up my bedroom?”

“Yes, Damian.  Apparently, they knew everything about you, including where you sleep.”

Damian took a step forward, looking around the ruined space, “Except for who I actually am.”

Talia looked at Damian strangely, “What do you mean?”

“After I killed the first three Shadows, Ko-Lan asked who I thought I was, to be allowed to kill his men.  I told him that I am the Demon’s Fist, and I was doing my job.  Ko-Lan was surprised.  He wasn’t expecting me to be me, I guess.  He stated that they didn’t know that the Demon’s Fist was so young.”

Talia approached closer to her son, “The League has done a lot to protect your identity over the years.  I guess we have been successful.”

Damian sat down on the edge of his bed.  The furniture creaked ominously as he set his weight on it.  Looking down at his hands, Damian asked, “Do you think they’ll come back, Mother?”

Talia looked at her son critically, “That better not be fear I hear in your voice.”

“It isn’t, Mother,” Damian said quickly, “I would gladly face any of them who want to die.  This is the first time that I have been specifically targeted.  It’s a new experience, Mother.”

Talia nodded slowly, “It is.  This cannot be allowed to stand.  You will lead humanity one day, but you can’t do that if the League of Shadows is allowed to kill you.  Pack a bag.”

Damian looked up strangely, “Pack a bag?  Where are we going?  Are we going to eliminate the Shadows, once and for all?”

Talia shook her head, “That will be up to your Grandfather to decide.  The Shadows are his responsibility.  You are mine.  It is obvious that the League of Shadows is looking to escalate our conflict.  It is time I started thinking long-term about your position.”

“What are you talking about, Mother?”

Talia ignored him, speaking more to herself, “If you are to lead, you will need more than the League can teach you.”  Talia glanced over at her son, who was staring at her, “Why aren’t you packing,” Talia snapped.

Damian stood and headed for his wardrobe.  There wasn’t much left that hadn’t been damaged in the blast, but he was able to piece together a handful of outfits.  He then started loading knives and ammunition into his bag, as well.

“Where are we going, Mother?”

“Get some rest, son,” Talia said, “For in the morning, we leave to continue your education.  I’m taking you somewhere where you can be safe while you learn.”

“I don’t need to be safe, Mother,” Damian interrupted, “I need to be here, to complete my duties.”

“You need to listen to your mother,” Talia said sharply, “I realize now that this is long overdue.  It is time I kept a promise I made to you.”

_That’ll be a first,_ Damian thought to himself, “Which promise, Mother?”

Talia approached Damian and looked down at him, “It’s time you met your Father.”

**A/N: Well, I thought I would do something a little different here.  I haven’t gone back in time in a while, and I thought I would write this one.  It’s a little different that Son of Batman, I know, but it suits my timeline.  I was going to complete this all in one chapter, but I liked this as an ending.  That means, instead of a one-shot, this is now going to be completed in two chapters.  I know the title doesn’t really make sense for what I’ve written so far.  I was really thinking of what I have planned for the second half of the story when I chose the name.  It’ll make sense when I’m done.**

**Sorry if this is a little graphic for some of you.  It is written this way specifically to show the harsh life my version of Damian lived before coming to Gotham City.**

**Thanks for playing along.**

 


	2. 2

Surveillance

Chapter 2

 

It had been a cold night for Damian.  His bed had collapsed when he had tried to lay down to sleep.  There was still a large hole in his wall.  Damian had done his best to try to stay warm, wrapping himself in a blanket as he slept on the floor.  It wasn’t the worst place Damian had ever slept, but it didn’t provide for a good night’s sleep.

Talia and Damian boarded her private yacht at sunrise and set out on the trip across the Atlantic.

“Why wasn’t I allowed to see Grandfather before we left, Mother,” Damian asked as they watched the land recede in the distance.

“Your Grandfather was still resting.  The Lazarus Pit is not gentle on the body, and it is even worse on someone approaching one thousand years of age.  Ra’s will be back to himself in a few days.”

Damian was a bit saddened that he was being kept away.  He was very fond of his Grandfather.  “Does he even know we’ve left?”

Talia shook her head, “He will understand, once he recovers.  Now, it’s three days until we arrive.”

“Where are we going,” Damian asked.

“Gotham City, in America,” Talia replied, holding out a file folder.  “You have until we arrive to memorize that.”

Damian opened the cover and asked, “What is this?”

Talia moved to stand next to Damian and pointed at the first page, “This is all the information I’ve compiled on your father.  Everything of importance on the man can be found in there.”

Damian regarded the thick file almost reverently.  _This is the second time she has given me information about my Father, without having to ask for it.  I didn’t even know she had all of this_.

Damian read over the first page, staring at the photo of a man with many similar features to his own, “Bruce Wayne.  This is my Father?”

Talia gave a rare smile, “Yes, he is.”

Damian looked up, “Is he going to come home with us?  Is he going to join us in battle against the Shadows?”

Talia smiled, “I doubt it.”

Damian was confused by the answer, “Won’t he want to avenge the attack on Grandfather?”

Talia sighed, “My son, you will find that the outside world is quite different from the one you’ve lived in with the League.”

“You’ve sent me out into the world before, Mother.”

Talia nodded, “To accomplish missions, not to live.”

Damian interrupted with a skeptical look, “What do you mean, to live?”

Talia placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder.  Damian glanced at the hand, then back up to Talia’s face as she said, “It’s just for a little while, Damian.  Your Grandfather and I need to take care of this Shadow threat.”

“You’ll need me for that,” Damian protested, “I can help you.”

Talia gave a soft smile, “Not this time.  Remember, _you_ were the target of the Shadow’s last attack, my child.”

“All the more reason to allow me a shot at them.  They killed my Grandfather.  I should be allowed a chance at vengeance.  It’s my mission.”

Talia led Damian up to a living area surrounded by windows, providing a commanding view of the sea on both sides of the yacht.  “You have a new mission now.  It is long past time that you started learning about how the world works.  If you are going to lead, you need to know more than just what the League can teach you.  Learn about your Father, Damian.  He can teach you to be the great man you are destined to become.”

Damian thought for a second about what Talia was telling him.  “Mother, when we get to Father, are you going to stay with us?”

Talia shook her head, “No, Damian.  I need to return to the League, to eliminate the threat they made against you.  Once the threat is neutralized, you can come home.  Your Grandfather and I will be waiting for you.”

_She is just planning on leaving me with this person?  If Mother trusts him, he must be a great man.  Why is she being so nice about this?  This might be the most civil conversation we’ve had, since the first time she told me about my Father._

Damian looked down at the file again, “What kind of man is my Father?”

Talia sat on the couch next to Damian, “He is a good man; an honorable man.”

Damian looked up, “Then, why won’t he come back to fight the Shadows with us?”

Talia smiled, “He has his own responsibilities.  Read the file, Damian.  It will answer your questions for you.”

_The Following Morning…_

Talia walked into the lounge to find that Damian hadn’t moved since she left him.  Damian closed the file and rubbed at his eyes before stretching expansively.

“Well,” she asked.

Damian looked up blearily, “Are you sure this is my Father?  There is nothing in here that is anything like me.  He isn’t a warrior.  He isn’t a world leader.  He’s a moderately successful businessman who keeps company with whores and orphans.  No wonder he won’t fight for Grandfather.”

Talia smirked, “You think that is all there is to Bruce Wayne?”

“If there was more, you would have put it in the file.  You said that this was everything of importance.”

Talia pulled another file from behind her back and said, “Why don’t you try this one?”

Damian took the file skeptically, “Mother, do you actually know who my Father is, or am I just supposed to pick one from a series of random files?”

Talia’s eyes narrowed, “I should whip you for that, and I might, but later.  Perhaps this will reveal a little more about the man who is your father.”

Damian nodded as he yawned, “I’ll read it in a couple hours.  I’ve been up all night, memorizing the last file.”

Talia nodded as Damian rose and shuffled past, “Very well.  Oh, by the way.”  Damian stopped and turned back to his Mother, who slapped him hard across the face.  “That is for insinuating that I am some common whore.”

_The Next Day…_

As the sun set on their second day at sea, Talia entered the lounge to find Damian looking back and forth between the two files she had given him.  Talia took a seat next to her son, glancing over his shoulder.

Damian didn’t glance over when he asked, “Are you sure this is the same guy?  They seem nothing alike.”

Talia gave a small smile, “Yes, I’m sure.  Your Father is an expert in stealth and subterfuge.  He has had his mask of Batman for over twenty years, and no one is the wiser in Gotham City.”

Damian pointed at a header on a page in the Batman file, “What is this?  What is…Robin?”

“Robin is Batman’s assistant.”

Damian looked up at Talia strangely, “Why would my Father need an assistant?  It said in the other file that he trained with Grandfather.  That training should cover just about everything.”

Talia nodded, “Yes, your Father sought out your Grandfather for training.  However, he does not choose to act in the way you have been trained.  He chooses to defend his home city, instead of completing specific missions.  There can be a lot going on in a city the size of Gotham City.  There is no shame in working with like-minded individuals for a shared purpose.”

Damian held up a picture of someone Talia had identified as Richard Grayson, according to the listing in the file, “My Father forces his assistant to dress like a sideshow freak?  There is a streak of cruelty in the man, isn’t there?”

Talia smiled, “Your Father didn’t force his partner to dress that way.  He didn’t stop him, either.  So, there is some cruelty there, yes.”

Damian replaced the picture in the file, picking up another one, labeled Timothy Drake, “Father seems to go through his assistants.  Maybe he should train them better, or choose older, more experienced associates.”

Talia nodded again, “Your Father has had several partners, yes.”

Damian eyed his mother before saying, “Rest assured, Mother, no matter how long you have to leave me with this man, you will never see _me_ wearing one of these…clown suits.”

Damian yawned as Talia gave a smile and said, “Hopefully, our separation won’t last too long.  You have been studying for almost two days straight.  Get some sleep, my child.  We will arrive in Gotham City tomorrow evening.”

Talia walked Damian down to his room and watched as the boy climbed into his bed.  As he was pulling his blankets up to his chin, Damian asked, “Why have I never met my Father, Mother?”

Talia walked into the room and sat on the edge of the bed, “You will find, my child, that your Father is an important man in Gotham City.  He is very busy.  I haven’t spoken to him in many years.”

Damian cocked his head and looked at his mother strangely.  Talia spoke before Damian could ask another question, “Rest, Damian.  We arrive tomorrow.”

_Tomorrow…_

Talia found Damian standing on the bow of the yacht as they approached Gotham Harbor.  Damian noticed they were coming in through the shipping lanes.  From what he could tell, the other civilian traffic was all diverting northerly.  Talia rested a hand on Damian’s shoulder as the yacht passed into the harbor.

The boy shook his head, “America, what a shithole.  If nothing else, at least the League of Shadows would never think to look for us in a place like this.”

“This is your Father’s home, Damian,” Talia said, “At least see what it is like before you judge it too harshly.”

Damian looked over, “What is there to see?  A bunch of self-absorbed idiots, who are too stupid to realize the police state they are living in?  A bunch of backward, inbred, dumbasses who would rather shout about how great they are than open their eyes and see how wrong they are?”

Talia shrugged, “Yes, that’s all true.”

Damian looked up again, “But?”

Talia smiled, “There’s no but.  I was just agreeing with you.”

Damian smirked, “It sounded like you were going to refute what I just said.”

Talia led Damian below decks as her boat crew tied the yacht to the dock, “There is no reason to refute the truth.  There is a reason I’ve never sent you on missions in America.  There are many strange laws and customs there, but mostly I didn’t want you corrupted by decadent western values.”

“What makes you think I can be corrupted,” Damian asked.

“Genetics,” Talia replied.  “Training can only cover so much.  You have had the best training in the world, but you are still made up of half me and half Bruce Wayne.”

Damian cocked his head, “You say that as if there is something wrong with my Father.”

“You’ve read his file.  You’ve seen how he chooses to live his life.”

“I won’t be with him long enough to be influenced by his ways.  Will I, Mother?”

The last sentence was spoken with true uncertainty in Damian’s voice, and even with as much of a cold-hearted bitch as Talia was, she couldn’t bring herself to reprimand her son.

_It’s dawning on him that we will be separated for a while.  Even the excitement of meeting his father is not enough to overpower his devotion to me.  I must have done something right._

“I will come for you as soon as it is safe.  Until then, learn from your father.  He will protect you.”

“Where is he, Mother,” Damian asked, “I didn’t see anyone on the dock when we were pulling in.”

Talia gave a small smile, “I told you, I haven’t spoken to your Father in years.  No, you are going to find your Father.”

Damian smirked, “His file contained home and office addresses.  It won’t be that hard to find him.”

“If you want to do things the easy way,” Talia said, “Then go ahead.  However, there is more you need to learn about your Father before you meet him.  Your Father will not come to us.  Consider this a stealth surveillance mission.  You are not seeking out Bruce Wayne.  To gain your Father’s acceptance, you will seek out Batman.  If you can track him and observe, without being spotted by him or his partners, there is much you will be able to learn.”

Damian was silent for a minute, “How long will we observe him for, Mother?”

“A couple days,” Talia replied.  “I will accompany you tonight.  Tomorrow night, you will be on your own.  Once I am sure the Shadows haven’t followed us here, then I will make contact with your Father, and will facilitate an introduction.”

Damian nodded, “That is a good plan.  The Shadows will not gain access to my Father.”

Talia eyed Damian for a second before saying, “Yes.  Prepare yourself.  This is complete stealth; no visible weapons.  Leave your sword and gun belt here.  Don’t bring anything that can’t be concealed on your person, under your clothes.  We leave in five minutes.”

_Five Minutes Later…_

Damian and Talia walked away from the yacht, looking like a rich parent and child out for a late stroll.  They only attracted attention from the sort of people who didn’t have their best interests at heart.

Talia and Damian didn’t need to look around to know that they were being followed, and they didn’t need to look at each other to know that the other knew it, as well.  A slight flicker of movement from Talia’s left hand told Damian how she wanted to play their situation.  Damian sighed internally as he reached up and took hold of Talia’s hand.

Playing on Damian’s shorter than average height, Talia said, “Come along, son, keep up.  I don’t like the look of this area.”

The pair could hear the quiet, over-confident chuckle from behind them.  Damian listened closely.  _Three sets of footfalls, ten meters back.  One is walking with a limp.  One has old boots, with a sole in need of repair.  One is carrying a chain; it could be a weapon.  The one with the limp is holding a cane, or a stick of some sort.  Why did Mother want to take this situation like this?  I could have killed all three of them in a matter of seconds, if I didn’t have to pretend to be a scared child._

A fourth man stepped out from behind a stack of crates, directly in front of mother and son.  They stopped short at the sight of the man, who was looking Talia up and down.  “Where you goin’, Darlin’?”

“Move,” Talia said once, firmly.

The man looked over Talia’s shoulder, at the three men who were trailing the pair, “Did you hear that, boys?  Little lady here thinks she can tell us what to do.  Okay, Darlin’, I’ll move, but not until I get what I want.”

The man was looking Talia up and down, his eyes focusing mainly on the plunging neckline of Talia’s blouse.  “Yeah, honey, you’re going to make us real happy.  Fellas, you can share the boy until I’m done.”

One of the men called out, “Hey!  I don’t get off on little boys.”

Another replied, “What’s it matter?  He aint going to survive it anyway.”

Talia sighed, “Enjoy yourself.”

“I will, Little Darlin’, I will,” the first man said with a chuckle, not realizing that Talia wasn’t talking to him.

The man reached for Talia’s chest.  Just before he actually touched her, Talia grabbed the outstretched hand and twisted hard, breaking the man’s wrist.  Before the man could cry out in pain, a dagger appeared in Talia’s right hand.  She stabbed it through the man’s windpipe, silencing any scream he might try to make.  The man stared dumbly, wide-eyed, clutching at his newly opened throat.

“Was it good for you,” Talia asked as she spun the dagger around in her hand and slammed it into the side of the man’s neck.  She cautiously avoided the spray of blood as the man fell lifelessly to the cold ground.

Talia turned around slowly to find Damian casually watching his mother.  Looking behind the boy, Talia found all three of the assailants lying dead on the ground.  Talia gave a single nod and said, “Very good.  I didn’t hear you kill any of them.”

Damian smiled at the praise as Talia threw her dagger at Damian.  He caught it deftly as she said, “Clean that.”

Damian turned, knelt down, and wiped the blade on one of his victim’s shirts.  He handed the knife back, and Talia and Damian continued on their way.

“Woo wee!”

Talia and Damian looked in the direction of the shout, and found a black man wearing a white suit, leaning against a light pole.

“It’s about time someone took those lowlifes out,” the man said.

“What are you talking about,” Talia asked as they approached the man.

The man gestured to the four corpses, “I seen what you did.  You one badass mother.”

Damian looked at the man dismissively.  “Watch your mouth, peasant,” the boy said as they walked away.

Talia and Damian rode a train into midtown, then climbed to the roof of an office building.  Looking around, Damian asked, “Is this where we will find my Father?”

Talia stared at the skyline and said, “This is where you will begin our search.  There are many clues you can use to find my Beloved, if you are observant enough to take notice.”

Damian thought out loud, “You said I am looking for this Bat Man, who is supposed to be my Father in a costume.  He uses this costume to try to fight crime, according to your file.  So, if we commit a crime, my Father will show up.”

Talia smiled at the analysis, “We also want to avoid the local law enforcement, who are far more numerous and more likely to show up.  There are hundreds of them, and only one Batman.”

Damian thought about that, “So, is there a specific crime that my Father would be more likely to respond to?”

“Remember your mission, Damian,” Talia said sharply, “You are to track and observe, while remaining unseen.  You will only meet your Father after I have spoken to him.”

Damian tried to hide his sigh, and failed.  Looking off to the north, he saw a search light flicker on in the distance.  “What is that, Mother,” Damian asked, pointing towards the shaft of light.

Talia smirked, then pointed up.  Damian followed Talia’s finger and looked up.  He gasped as he saw the Bat-signal shining over the city.

“That’s the…oh, what did you call it in your notes?  The Bat Sign?  Bat Call?  Father will respond to that.  Come, Mother, let’s get closer.”

Damian and Talia perched on a rooftop across the street from Gotham Police Plaza.  Batman had arrived ahead of them, and was speaking with an older man, wearing a tan trench coat, with white hair and a bushy white mustache.  They were too far away to hear anything, but Damian has his binoculars jammed against his eyes, trying to memorize every detail he could.

_I can’t tell much from here,_ Damian thought.  _We’re too far away, and there isn’t much light on that rooftop.  That cape makes it impossible to make out anything of the man underneath._

“What’s with the cape, Mother?”

Talia gave an unseen smile, “It hides many things.”

“It gets in the way,” Damian mumbled.

“Apparently, the criminals find it intimidating,” Talia continued.

Damian snorted, “Well, people are stupid.  I wish we could get closer.”

Talia regarded her son.   _He’s excited to meet his Father.  I can’t say that I blame him; I’ve told him stories of my Beloved for years._

Damian gasped, “Mother, look!”

Talia lifted her binoculars to see what Damian was pointing at, “What is it?”

Damian pointed again with one hand while holding his binoculars up with the other, “The building behind my Father.  If you look two floors above our level, second window from the right edge of the building.”

Talia looked where Damian was indicating, hiding her gasp better than Damian had.  “A rifle barrel.  It seems my Beloved has attracted a few enemies over the years.  Definitely not a professional.  That’s a hunting rifle, not a sniper’s rifle.”

“Shouldn’t we try to warn him,” Damian asked, looking up at his mother.

Talia looked back at the roof, “That won’t be necessary.”

Damian looked back at the roof to find that Batman and the old man had vanished.  He looked up to see that the potential shooter was gone, as well.  “Where did they go,” Damian pondered out loud.

Talia was shaking her head slowly, “Protecting a man you don’t even know.  Showing concern while on a stakeout.  Those are traits of your Father, and they have no place in an agent of the League of Assassins, especially one as highly placed as the Demon’s Fist.  Your mission is to track and observe.”

Damian looked up cautiously, “You also told me that my mission is to learn from my Father, to be a better leader of the League.  I can’t learn from someone if they’re dead.”

“Lessons are learned, Damian, even in death.  If nothing else, this case teaches you to be aware of your surroundings at all times, and to duck when necessary.”

Damian stood a little straighter, and spoke defiantly, “I was promised a chance to meet my Father.  That was a promise from you, and no two-bit thug with a rifle is going to rob me of that.  I spent too long earning this right to have it taken away now.”

A seed of jealousy started to sprout in Talia’s stomach.  _He has never been this excited to see me.  Maybe this is a bad idea, introducing Damian to his Father._   “He is gone for now, and it’s late.  We will return to the yacht for the night, and you will start your surveillance tomorrow.  Remember, surveillance only.”

_Later…_

Walking through the harbor, Talia noticed that Damian’s attitude had cooled once they left downtown.  She was also surprised when they came across their earlier victims, still just as dead as the last time they saw them, unmoved from where they fell.

Damian spared a short glance for the corpses, then said, “Were we that quiet, or are dead bodies lying in the street a normal thing in this city?”

Talia shrugged, “They are a little more common here than in other places around America.  I’m sure no one will miss those vermin.”

Talia and Damian froze as a shot rang out in the distance.  Damian looked up at his mother and said, “That shot came from the direction of the yacht.”

Talia nodded as they headed for the boat, “Stay close; it could just be a local gang.”

More shots could be heard as they approached the yacht.  “I don’t think that’s a local gang, Mother,” Damian said.

Talia peered around a cargo container and gasped, “The Shadows!  They followed us!”

Talia’s yacht was under siege by dozens of Shadow warriors.  Her half-dozen personal guards were outnumbered and outmatched.  Talia looked down at Damian as the boy pulled daggers out of each sleeve.

“They’ll pay for this with their lives,” Damian said fiercely.

Talia pulled her own knife from the sheath at the small of her back, “Advance quietly, and show no mercy, my child.”

Damian pulled his hood over his head as he quickly and silently covered the distance to the yacht.  He was spotted by a sentry, stationed at the base of the gang plank, but it didn’t do the man any good.  Before he could call out a warning, Damian was on him, plunging both daggers into the Shadow’s chest.  Damian only stopped long enough to pull his weapons out of the dead man before running up the ramp.

He worked his way around the upper deck, killing three more sentries before he was spotted, and a warning cry sounded.  Damian waited on the upper deck, for his enemies to come to him.  With as many as were attacking the boat, it didn’t take long.

Damian gave an evil grin as a line of Shadow Warriors came down the port side of the boat.  He jumped at the soldiers, knives flashing left and right as he changed himself from an elite guard into a human meat grinder.  The only thought that ran through his head was that Talia had told him to show no mercy, effectively removing any limitations he might have placed on his actions.

Soon, Damian stood among a dozen mutilated corpses, but it wasn’t enough for the young assassin.  He worked his way below decks, his eyes wide as he sought out more carnage.  Suddenly, a sword flashed out of an open doorway.  The blade caught Damian in the side, but Damian had already turned at the first sign of the weapon.  Instead of stabbing through the boy, the edge sliced open a small gash under his right arm.  Continuing his turn, Damian ignored the pain as he brought his elbow down on the sword, breaking the blade in half.  Damian caught the broken end of the blade as it fell and jabbed it into his attacker’s face.  The man dropped, dead, and Damian cut a length of fabric from his attacker’s tunic.  He wrapped his fingers, where the razor sharp blade had dug into his skin, and continued on, ignoring the bleeding wound to his side.

Damian worked his way down to the engine room, where he found three Shadows, hunched over a box on the floor.  They were oblivious to his presence, until the closest Shadow, who happened to have his back to the door, slumped over, dead, with one of Damian’s daggers sticking out of his back.

Damian threw the second dagger, but his prey was alerted at this time, and were able to dodge the flying blade.  Damian charged into the room, and was met by one of the remaining warriors.  He tried to grab Damian in a bear hug, but Damian quickly ducked under the grabbing arms, and lashed out with a heel to the side of the man’s knee.  The man staggered, but didn’t fall.  He turned back to the boy in time to block a quick series of punches before launching several punches of his own.  All were blocked by the young assassin.

A boot heel caught Damian in the side of the head as the third Shadow joined in the fight with his comrade.  Damian rolled away and quickly regained his feet, taking a second to read his opponent’s stances.  Damian quickly knelt to duck a roundhouse kick, and came back up with the knife he usually hid in his boot in his hand.

Taking advantage of the still-spinning attacker, Damian gave a strong upward thrust of the knife into the man’s back.  The blade penetrated just below the man’s ribs, piercing his lung and just missing his heart.

Damian was grabbed by the back of his tunic and thrown across the room.  He stumbled and tripped over the legs of his first victim, landing hard next to the dead body.  The Shadow approached quickly, but not quickly enough.  Damian yanked his dagger from the back of his first victim and threw it at his next victim.  The blade hit true, in the dead center of the warrior’s chest.  The man gave a strangled gurgle before falling to the floor of the engine room, breathing his last.

Damian rose and walked over to the third Warrior, who was still standing and trying to reach the knife sticking out of his back.  Damian shook his head as he ripped the blade from the man’s back.  He then cut the man’s throat from ear to ear.  The last Shadow fell, never to rise again.

Damian walked over to the box that had held the Shadow’s attention when he first entered the room, and his eyes widened a bit.  He sighed as he thought to himself, _Oh, great.  A bomb.  How else can this day get better?_

A noise from the doorway put Damian back on his guard.  He turned quickly, raising his arm in preparation to throw his knife at the new threat.  He held his attack as he found Talia and two Assassins in the doorway, instead of more Shadows.

“Mother,” Damian breathed.

Talia stared at the box at Damian’s feet, “Is that a bomb?”

Damian relaxed from his attack posture, “Yes, Mother.  There are three minutes remaining on the timer.”

Talia turned to one of her guards, “You, take that and throw it into the sea.”

“Yes, Lady Talia,” the guard said, walking forward to remove the bomb from the room.

“Are there more Shadows, Mother,” Damian asked with a wince.

Talia shook her head, “None that we are aware of.  We will sweep the yacht to ensure that.  Are you injured?”

Damian followed Talia’s eyes to his side, where the tear in his tunic could be easily seen.  Damian lifted his shirt and said, “It’s nothing, Mother.”

It was a little more than nothing.  The cut itself didn’t look bad, but the more Damian had moved in battle, the more it had bled.  The normally tan skin of his side was now stained red.

Talia gave a short _hmm_ , “That will have to be treated.  Come, we will sweep the yacht from bottom to top, then I will take care of that.”

Damian retrieved his daggers and turned to ask how the rest of the battle had gone when an explosion rocked the yacht.  Damian and Talia listened for a second, but couldn’t hear anything that sounded like the boat was in danger of sinking.

Talia shrugged, “He must have thrown it far enough overboard.”

Damian matched the shrug, “Must have.  Are these the only remaining guards, Mother?”

They were rejoined by the bomb disposal Assassin as Talia said, “Yes.  These two were the only ones to survive.”

“That will complicate things, won’t it, Mother?”

“It’s not ideal, but it won’t stop us from completing our mission.”

They began their search of the boat.  Really, Talia and Damian observed while the two living guards searched every possible space, both for elusive Shadow Warriors and other planted bombs.  Finding nothing, Talia allowed them to relax just a bit.  The two remaining Assassins were assigned to twelve hour watch shifts, in case more Shadows found the yacht, and Talia cleaned and bandaged Damian’s side.

_The Next Day…_

“You saw yesterday what this city can be like.  Have you prepared yourself for your task tonight, my child?”

Damian took a deep breath as he secured the knife in his boot, “Yes, Mother.  I am prepared.”

Talia looked Damian up and down before saying, “Very well.  What is your mission tonight?”

“Track and observe,” Damian said.

“What is forbidden tonight?”

Damian hid his sigh as he pulled on a pair of thin, black gloves, “Any contact with my Father or his partners.”

Talia nodded and checked the time, “It is now ten o’clock.  Be back to the yacht by sunrise.”

“Yes, Mother,” Damian said.  He headed for the gangplank before stopping and turning back, “Mother, can we try to contact Grandfather before I leave?  Just to see if he has recovered?”

Talia did nothing to hide her annoyed expression, “Our time here is short, and growing shorter by the second.  Sentimentality does not come before a mission.  You have your mission; now, complete it.”

Damian bowed his head as he turned to leave.  He said softly, “Yes, Mother.”

Damian pulled his hood up over his head as he left the dock area behind.  He headed for the same train from the previous night, and a small smile flashed across his lips as the mode of transportation came into view.

_This is supposed to be a stealth mission.  I guess that means I’m riding on top tonight.   Can’t look too suspicious, but then again, there’s so much that I’ve seen of this city that looks suspicious.  I just have to try to blend in._

Damian ascended to the top of the train and took a seat, trying not to be seen from the platform.  The train pulled out of the station a minute later, and Damian pulled his sweater a little tighter around himself. 

_The train is heading for the city; I must not have been seen.  It’s colder tonight than it was last night.  At least the sky looks clear, though.  I shouldn’t have to worry about rain if this holds out.  There isn’t a cloud in the sky.  Cold, though._

Winding through the outskirts of the city, Damian looked around from his lofty perch, trying to memorize the landscape.

_This must be a manufacturing district.  That makes sense, being this close to the docks.  It would make getting raw materials cheaper and quicker.  I know it’s late at night, and there shouldn’t be anyone working at these factories, but they all look abandoned.  Half of the street lights don’t work, and the only traffic appears to be foot traffic.  Lots of homeless around here.  No cars; none that could be considered functional, at least.  I bet this area hasn’t been useful in many years._

A strange thought occurred to Damian as the train passed a church, with its steeple jutting into the night sky.  There was a small cemetery to be seen at the back of the church.

_It’s not sentimentality, Mother.  Why are you trying to keep me away from Grandfather?  Not letting me call him is actually keeping me from completing my mission in life.  I’m the Demon’s Fist; it’s my job to ensure the safety of Ra’s Al-Ghul.  Besides, I like Grandfather.  What’s wrong with being concerned for his welfare?_

The buildings started to grow taller as the train took a westbound turn.  The wind picked up a little as the buildings sat closer together.  Damian pulled his hood back up to cover his head again.

_We got off the train last night about half a mile from here.  Fortunately, I don’t have to wait for a station tonight.  I think I’ll ride a little further into the town, and see what’s around._

Damian slid a few feet forward on the roof of the train as it slowed down to approach the station.  He wasn’t concerned about falling off.  In fact, if Damian knew how to enjoy himself, he would have found the sensation fun.

A police car running lights and sirens approached the train station.  Damian laid flat along the roof of the train car, in case he had been spotted.  It turns out that he didn’t have to worry, as the police car passed the station by, heading for some unknown call.

_I wonder if I should follow the authorities.  I think that is what my Father would do.  He claims to be some sort of crime fighter, he must follow the crime in the city.  Why would my Father choose to fight crime?  What wasn’t in Mother’s file?  Sure, his parents were murdered in front of him, but he must be tougher than that, if he’s my Father.  Mother would never associate herself with a weak person.  Whatever his actual reason, he must think he is able to make a difference._

The train started moving again, transporting the killer youth deeper into the city.  Getting closer to their exit from the night before, Damian started paying closer attention to his surroundings.

_You know, even with as built up as this area of the city is, it isn’t that much nicer than the dock area is.  According to Mother’s file, Father is a wealthy man.  I wonder if that is wealth measured against the local average.  Surely his home is something closer to Grandfather’s palace.  I wonder if I’ll ever get to see it.  I wonder if I’ll ever get to see Grandfather, and his palace, again.  Why is Mother even bringing me here?  Is this punishment for failing in my job to protect Grandfather?_

Damian wasn’t paying attention, with as caught up in his own thoughts as he was, and the train passed the next two stops before the boy realized he was in unfamiliar territory.  At the next stop, Damian slid off the roof of the train and tried to blend in with the sparse foot traffic.

Damian walked down a side street, trying to find a building address.  They were few and far between.  That didn’t really matter to the boy, though.  When you don’t have a specific destination in mind, then it is impossible to be lost.

The assassin turned down an alley, to get to the next street.  Keeping a normal pace, to try to not seem out of place, Damian sighed as he heard movement.

_Was that person sleeping in the dumpster?  That’s…disgusting._

“Hey!  This is my alley.  You want to pass through, you’re going to have to pay the toll.”

Damian rolled his eyes heavily as he came to a stop and turned around, “You’ll get nothing from me.  Go back to your dumpster, you worthless piece of trash.”

The man’s eyes narrowed as he looked over the youth.  The man was dressed in little better than rags, and he was quite a bit thinner than he should have been.  Malnutrition from years living on the streets will do that to a person.  He held his arm out, and the weapon held in his shaky hand was less than impressive to the trained assassin.  A jagged shard of metal, obviously broken from the dumpster that served as his resting spot for the night, was improvised at best, but still potentially lethal, in the right hands.

_This filth isn’t worth dirtying one of my blades.  I’ll just use his to take care of this._

The man shook the shard of metal as he approached, “Either give me all your money, or I’ll take an ear.”

Damian chuckled, “Is that supposed to be a threat?  Are you threatening me, because I can’t tell?  Aren’t you supposed to be scary, if you’re making threats?”

A waver entered the man’s voice.  He hadn’t been ready for this child to stand up to him.  “Give me your money, kid.  You don’t know what’s coming for you.”

Damian made no reply.  Instead, as the man came closer, Damian grabbed the man’s arm, and turned his own blade on himself.  Damian forced the man’s arm to bend at the elbow, and plunged the shard into the man’s stomach.  The man’s eyes widened in surprise as the best weapon he could find ended up ending his life.

As the man slowly dropped to the cold, wet pavement, Damian said softly, “I may not know what is coming for me, but I know what is coming for you.  The end is coming for you.  Let that be a lesson…um, for your next life.  Don’t fuck with Damian Al-Ghul.  You won’t survive it, as you can…well, that’s rude.  How dare you die before I can finish berating you?”

Damian turned and left the corpse in the alley, to continue his search for Batman.

Turning out of the alley, Damian quickly inspected his clothing for blood stains.  _I’ve been too careless about that lately.  It didn’t really matter where the blood went over the last few days.  Those were all show killings, I had to make them messy.  At least this last one was smart enough to not touch me.  I don’t see any blood, I must have gotten away clean this time._

Damian glanced around to find himself in a strangely familiar place.  _Why does this look familiar?  This is only the second time I’ve been in this city, nothing should look familiar.  Wait; that is the building where I saw Father last night.  I’m just seeing it from a different angle tonight.  I wonder if…_

Damian could stop wondering, because as he looked up at the police building, the spotlight on the roof flickered into life.  _That’s Father’s signal.  He should be here at any time.  I should get a better vantage point, to start my track._

Damian found his way to the roof of a nearby building and found some cover while he waited.  The boy was glancing around impatiently, trying his best not to give away his location, but anxiously awaiting his Father’s arrival.

_Where is he?  It’s been ten minutes since the light went on.  Is he coming at all?  How am I supposed to track you if you don’t show up where you’re supposed to?  He better not be at his home, sleeping, while I’m out here waiting for him._

It seemed like Damian took his eyes off of the police building for just a second, but when he looked back, Batman was on the roof of the police building, speaking with the old man again.

_How did you do that?  That doesn’t matter right now.  Right now, I have to make sure I don’t lose track of you again, like I did last night.  There are only two of you here tonight.  What happened to the one in the black and blue suit?  You only brought the other one tonight; that…Robin.  What a stupid name.  Wait, is the other one here, and just watching the perimeter?  Maybe they found out about the rifleman that Mother and I saw last night, and he is looking for their potential attacker._

Damian pressed his binoculars to his eyes and started scanning the surrounding windows.  Only one thing stuck out to him, and it wasn’t a third vigilante.

_There is the shooter again.  What an amateur, sticking his rifle out the window like that.  It should be any second before Father’s other assistant takes him out._   _That’s awfully careless of you, Father, leaving yourself open like this.  Live bait is one thing, but…it doesn’t seem like you are actually aware of the danger you put yourself in.  Mother said I can’t contact you, or tip you off to the potential danger, but she didn’t say I couldn’t take care of the danger myself._

Already moving before the thought finished coalescing in his head, Damian made his way along the rooftops of three high-rise buildings before landing on the roof, six floors above his target.  Damian made his way as quietly as possible down a rickety metal fire escape before climbing through a window into a hallway that was bathed in shadows.

_It’s dark in here.  Just the way I like it.  Let’s see.  He was two windows from the edge of the building.  I’m guessing it’s…this one._

Damian knocked lightly on an apartment door.  There was no answer, so he knocked a little louder.

From the other side of the door came an angry grumble, “What do you want?  It’s late and I’m busy.”

Damian tried his best to sound like a little kid, “Sir?  Can you help me?  I need some help.”

A large series of locks were unbolted from the inside of the apartment before the door was opened, “Fine, kid.  What do you… _hrk!”_

Damian’s boot knife did the talking for him as it was shoved up under the man’s ribcage.  The man staggered back into the apartment, and Damian followed him inside, closing the door behind him.  He took a look around the small, one room dwelling, and found that he had guessed right in apartment location.  A hunting rifle had been laid on the floor below the open window.  A folding chair was set up in front of the window.  A table next to the chair had a magazine and a notebook next to an ashtray, with what appeared to be several packs of cigarette butts in it.

This was typical of what Damian expected.  He didn’t expect the poster-sized picture of Batman that he found hanging on the wall.  He also didn’t expect the crosshairs painted across Batman’s face in white paint.

Turning back to his victim, Damian found the man on his knees, gasping for air.  He yanked the knife out of his victim and said, “What did you think you were doing?  Were you going to try to shoot the Bat Man?”

Blood was leaking out of the corner of the man’s mouth, “Batman swept my brother up in a sting last April.  He went to prison, where he was beat to death by his cellmate.  Batman deserves to die for that.”

Damian shook his head, “Then why didn’t you take your shot?  How long have you been sticking that rifle out of the window, without shooting?”

“Three weeks,” the man gasped, pressing his hand to his wound in a futile attempt to stop his bleeding.

“You missed your window,” Damian said, feeling like he was teaching the next generation of assassins.  “When you have your shot, you take it.  Now, it’s too late for you.  You just made your fatal mistake.”

“Who are you,” the man coughed.

Damian held up his knife, “I am Damian Al-Ghul.”

The man just shrugged, unable to catch enough breath to speak.

Damian sighed, “Batman is my Father, and no one kills him until _I_ say it’s okay.”

The man’s eyes widened, as Damian gave him an answer to a question that the youth didn’t know hung on the lips of the city.  It didn’t matter, though.  That information died with the potential shooter as Damian cut his throat.

Remembering his failure of the previous night, Damian walked to the window and looked out at the roof of the police building.  The spotlight was out, and Damian was just able to make out Batman and Robin as they flew away from the building.

_How are they doing that?  Oh, wait.  I can see the wires.  They must use grappling hooks, or something._

Damian hurried out of the apartment and back up the rickety fire escape to the roof.  Looking off in the direction he saw Batman and Robin heading, Damian caught sight of them as they landed on a rooftop, ten buildings away.  Stealth forgotten, Damian began to run, trying to get closer.

_I can’t let them get away tonight.  Mother will never forgive that.  That might be enough for her to rescind her offer to let me meet my Father._

Batman and Robin took off again, swinging away from their previous perch before Damian had covered even half the distance.  He changed direction to follow their flight path from half a city block away, but he could tell that he had a tall order in front of him.

_I can either stay hidden, and possibly lose them, or I can keep track of them and possibly be caught.  I can’t get caught, though.  Batman will never believe he’s my Father if Mother doesn’t introduce us, and Mother will never introduce us if he catches me.  Why am I starting to believe that Mother doesn’t want me to succeed in this task?_

Damian was so intent on catching up to his quarry that he almost didn’t notice that they had stopped on a roof, two buildings away.  Damian had to dive for cover to make sure he wasn’t spotted.  After a breathless minute, Damian pulled a dagger out of his sleeve and used the blade like a mirror.  What he saw didn’t make sense to the young assassin.

_Wait, did they just jump off of the building?  We must be ten stories up.  Well, if they have a mechanism for flying around the town, they must have thought about getting to the ground safely.  It’s safe to move now, since they’re out of sight._

Damian rose and made his way to Batman’s last position.  He peeked over the side of the building, and his heart dropped in his chest.

_A car.  Mother didn’t tell me that Batman used a car to get around town.  I didn’t bring any digital trackers with me.  How the hell am I going to keep up with a car, especially one that looks like that?  That must be custom built.  I’ve never seen anything like it.  How do I track that thing?_

Damian thought for a second too long, as the strange-looking car pulled out of the alley and could be heard powering down the block.  He climbed down to street level on a fire escape that he was sure Batman and Robin hadn’t used.  Damian walked to the end of the alley and looked in the direction the car had turned.  There was nothing to be seen.

_Well, that’s a failed mission.  With as fast as he was driving just pulling out of the alley, my Father could be anywhere in the city by now.  Who knows how many turns he will take to get to…wherever his destination is.  If Mother’s research is to be believed, my Father will be watching for tails and tracking equipment.  Could he have seen me?  I can’t think about that now, I have to try to find him.  Mother told me to be back at the boat before sunrise.  I’ve got hours before that happens._

Damian started walking down the street in the direction the car had turned.  A chill wind met the child’s back, and he shivered slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest.  This was turning into more of a hunt than he was predicting, but that was acceptable to the youth.  Damian felt that if it was too easy to track his Father, then maybe the hunt wouldn’t be worth it, and therefore, his Father wouldn’t be worth it.  The boy wouldn’t realize it for several days yet, but he was starting to develop a form of respect for his Father, just in the fact that he was living up to the League of Assassins training he had received.

A police car passed at a cross street, lights flashing and siren blaring.  Thinking he had nothing to lose, Damian turned left at the street, following the direction the police cruiser had gone.

The police car was long out of sight when another one approached him from down the block.  It turned two blocks ahead of Damian, and the youth took the next right when he reached the cross street.

Forty minutes of following the turns of several police vehicles led Damian to an active crime scene.  The boy had no idea of what was going on, but he was definitely in the right place.

_I wonder what happened here.  It doesn’t really matter, that is the old guy that my Father was talking to on the roof getting out of that car.  He must be high up in the local police, if he was talking to Batman and is showing up at this crime scene._

A group of people were being led to a police van in handcuffs when Batman and Robin stepped out of a building and began speaking with the white-haired man again.

_Well, I found them.  I wish I could get closer, to hear what they were saying.  I can’t, though.  Not without getting caught.  Wait, what’s that?_

Damian was looking at the roof of a building to his left.  He couldn’t quite tell what it was, but something was being held over the edge of the roof and pointed at the center of the action.

The assassin rounded the back side of the building in question, going away from the police presence, and climbed to the roof.  He was met by a strange set-up.

_Not an assassin, apparently.  That isn’t a gun.  It looks more like…that’s a laser microphone.  It’s not a killer, it’s a spy.  That’s much worse._

Silently, Damian approached behind the peeping man.  He was wearing headphones connected to the laser mic, and was taking notes of what was said, his hand moving furiously over a notebook, his pen writing as quickly as the ink would flow.

_So, he’s spying for someone.  If my father doesn’t know he’s here, he might get complacent enough to give something away.  That can’t happen.  I won’t let anything jeopardize my chance of meeting my Father, not even his own sloppiness._

Damian pulled a thin, steel garrote from his sleeve and quickly wrapped it around the man’s neck.  Understandably startled, the man dropped the laser mic as the steel wire cut into his skin.

“Who do you work for,” Damian hissed dangerously into the man’s ear.

“The G-Gotham G-G-Gazette,” the man gasped out when Damian loosened the pressure on the man’s neck for a second.

“Bullshit.  You’re a spy.  Who do you work for?”

The man was shaking now, “I’m a reporter, really.  I’m j-just t-trying to get a scoop.”

Damian shook his head, “You expect me to believe that, when you’re here with thousands of dollars of spy gear?  Who is paying you?  Talk, or you’re dead.”

“P-please don’t k-k-kill me.  I have a family.”

“You should have thought of that before you got into the spy game.”

“Oh, God…” the man started, before the wire cut into his windpipe again.

Damian put the evilest tone into his voice that he was capable of producing, “God?  God can’t help you now.  The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he did not exist.  Well, motherfucker, _I exist_.  Not that that information will do you any good, because in a few seconds, you won’t exist.  Not anymore.”

The man started to try to get out of Damian’s grasp, but it didn’t do him any good.  Damian pulled as hard as he could on the ends of the wire garrote.  The strangling device straightened out suddenly as the man’s head was separated from his shoulders.  The surprised, yet terrified, look would be frozen on the man’s face for all eternity.  Damian sighed as he cleaned his weapon and replaced it in his sleeve.

Something caught Damian’s eye, and he knelt down and picked up a card from the man’s belongings.  “Huh.  He was a reporter, after all.  Who knew he was telling the truth?  Oh well.  The world will be better off with one less ambulance chaser around.  He was nice enough to leave me with a good vantage point and some nice equipment.  Let’s see what my Father is saying down there.”

Damian picked up the laser mic and held the earphones to one ear.  Settling the device on the one man in the crowd he wanted to hear, Damian took in the masculine voice.  He listened to the conversation down in the street for another minute before the older man left, and Batman and Robin grappled to the roof of a nearby building.

Damian followed the pair with the laser microphone and listened in on a completely different conversation than the one the men had held on the street.  The more he listened, the less he liked what he heard.

_Several Hours Later…_

Damian trudged aboard the yacht an hour before sunrise and flopped down in a chair in the lounge.  It was only a couple minutes before Talia entered the room and noticed the disturbed state of her son.

“Damian, you were out longer than I thought you would be.”

He sighed, “It’s a long walk back from the middle of the city.  Apparently, the trains stop running around two in the morning.”

“Were you able to find your Father,” Talia asked.

Damian nodded, “Yes, I found him.”

“Were you able to track him?”

Another nod, “Yes.”

Talia didn’t like the lack of information being presented, “Something obviously happened.  Were you found?  Were you attacked?”

“I wasn’t found.  I wasn’t attacked, but I did have to kill a few people along the way.”

Talia shrugged, “I expected as much.  Then, what…”

Damian looked up and interrupted his Mother, “Mother, why didn’t you tell me?”

Talia was surprised at the question, “Why didn’t I tell you what?”

Damian sighed, “I listened in on a conversation between Batman and Robin.  They didn’t detect me, don’t worry.  That Robin…well, he…”

Talia took a seat across from Damian, “What did he do?”

Damian’s eyes were wide as he said, “He called Batman ‘Dad’.  Now, if I understand the language correctly, that is a familiar way to refer to one’s Father.  Is…is Batman Robin’s father?”

“Damian…”

Knowing she was about to try to deflect the question, Damian interrupted, “Just tell me, Mother.  You say that I am this Bruce Wayne’s son.  Does he have another son, or other children?”

“I don’t see why that should matter,” Talia said.

Damian dropped his head again, “Nothing like this was mentioned in either file you gave me.  Don’t you think this is something I should know, if I’m going to meet my Father?  Do I have a brother?”

Talia leaned forward and spoke softly, “That is a complicated question, my child.”

“It’s not,” Damian retorted, “It really only requires a yes or no.”

“Damian…”

“ _Just tell me_!  For once, Mother, just answer one of my questions honestly.”

Damian could tell he had gone too far as Talia’s posture stiffened.  She stood, and Damian expected to be hit, but this once, it didn’t happen.

“It has been a long night, my child.  You are obviously tired, which is why this all seems like so much more than it is, right now.  Get some sleep; we’ll discuss this more in the morning.  Despite your attitude, I will keep my promise.  You will meet your Father tomorrow evening.”

_Tomorrow Evening…_

As Damian expected, Talia ignored her promise to talk about the possibility of Damian having siblings.  However, as the day wore on, he realized that she was actually going to keep the promise of facilitating an introduction.

As the last light of day fled the sky, Talia instructed Damian to stay in the lounge, on the far side of the privacy curtain, until she returned and told him it was okay to make his presence known.  Damian had no idea how long he was going to have to wait, but for once, he didn’t mind an open-ended timeline.

Three hours passed, in which Damian went to the extra effort to make himself presentable for his Father.  After waiting for so long, his heart rate returned to a normal pace, only to start racing in excitement again when he heard voices come from the other side of the curtain.

“Would you like a drink,” his Mother’s voice asked.

“Last time, that didn’t go so well.”  Damian recognized the voice from the overheard conversation last night.

Talia’s voice got a bit quieter, “Oh, right.  If I remember correctly, I put a little something in your beverage.”

“Same way I remember it.”

Talia’s voice took on a romantic tone, “It made you romantic.”

“It made me do what you wanted,” the male voice interrupted.

_Wait a minute,_ Damian thought, _is he saying that Mother drugged him?  Am I the product of rape?_

“Was it _all_ bad, Beloved?”

“No,” Batman said, grudgingly admitting, “It wasn’t all bad.”

Talia asked in an almost excited tone, “Then you remember our shared moonlight?”

“Some of it,” the man said.

“The best parts?”

Batman’s tone definitely got sharper as he asked, “Talia, what do you want?”

Talia was quiet for a second before she said, “My Father…is dead.”

“Ra’s?”

“How many Father’s do I have?”

Batman’s tone softened a bit, “Sorry.  He always seemed…”

“Like you,” Talia interrupted, “Indestructible?”

“Hmm.  You haven’t seen my x-rays.”

Damian tried not to snicker at the joke.

“Maybe you can show them to me some time,” Talia said.

_Is she flirting with my Father?_

“You don’t seem all that broken up about Ra’s death.”

“I’m not,” Talia said, “We were attacked by the League of Shadows.  Ra’s was killed in the attack, but the Lazarus Pit was able to revive him again.  We had to leave before Ra’s had recovered.  There is no time for mourning.  The Shadows plan on striking again.  We had to leave.”

“We,” Batman asked.

Damian’s heart was pounding in his chest as he realized that his moment was at hand.  Damian rose and took a silent step closer to the curtain.

Talia’s voice grew closer, “Yes, we.  Me, and your son.”

“Son,” Batman said quickly.

Talia drew back the curtain.  Nervously, Damian took a deep breath before stepping forward into the light.  He stopped next to his mother, with his hands on his hips, hoping she wouldn’t detect how nervous he was.

Batman looked back and forth between Talia and Damian for half a minute before addressing Talia again.  “Do you expect me to believe this?”

“I assure you, he is yours,” Talia said quickly.

Damian eyed the man for a second before boldly walking forward.  He stopped three feet from the man and looked up into what he could see of his face.

“Don’t look so stunned, Father,” the youth said, looking Batman up and down, “I thought you’d be taller.”

 

**A/N:  Finally got this one done.  Just so you know, I didn’t originally intend for this to turn into a Son of Batman remake, but the ending just fit, so I… _borrowed_ it to end the story.  If you’ve been keeping up on my timeline, you know where it goes from here.**

**So, yes, there is a lot of killing in this one.  That is done to show what kind of life Damian was forced to live before coming to Gotham, and how much I’ve had him change in my timeline.**

**I don’t know which story I’m going to work on next.  I have several that I am writing at the moment.**

**I would love to hear what you all think of this, and all my works.**

**Thanks for playing along.**


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